


beautiful music and a beautiful love

by perplexed_kale



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Classical Music, Cuddling & Snuggling, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, Logic | Logan Sanders-centric, M/M, Music, Musician Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romantic Fluff, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Violins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-28 11:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30139107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perplexed_kale/pseuds/perplexed_kale
Summary: The violin was in the hands of none other than Tall, Dark, and Handsome himself, who stood in the center of the room.The sight was... captivating to Logan. The expert skill and confidence that Virgil played with. The way all tension in his body seemed to melt away with each note. The calm which covered his expression, washing away any emotions one may otherwise see.The beauty of the music and the man playing it.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

The late hours of night became the early hours of morning, yet sleep still evaded Logan.  
Ever since he had powered off his laptop, Logic had laid still in his bed, staring blankly and unfeelingly at the ceiling. Longing and waiting for sleep to wash over him.  
But sleep had yet to come.  
Anyone with even a hint of common sense would consider him an insomniac, though he was stubborn in admitting it. Logan could never seem to rest for longer than an hour or two, no matter how tired he was. If he was lucky, he might be able to push it to three. If luck wasn’t on his side, he might get half-an-hour. Maybe less.  
No matter how much his body needed rest, his mind refused to give Logan the much needed sleep.  
Tonight was no exception.

After lying awake for some time, Logan decided that he might as well get an early start to the day. Even if some may consider it too early.  
So what if he has breakfast at… Logan glanced at the illuminated screen of his alarm clock, allowing his vision a moment to adjust to the light. The harsh light burned his eyes until the time was visible over the brightness, allowing him to tear his eyes away from the clock and turn to face his door.  
So what if he has breakfast at two in the morning? It’s only five hours earlier than usual, and that gives him five more hours to work.  
Call him a workaholic, but he needed the extra time with the schedule unmade, a script half-done, and multiple emails unsent. Those extra hours could easily get Logan ahead of the game in terms of work, and that’s what the logical side needed to be.  
He’d go downstairs, brew a cup of coffee (or five), then head back upstairs and power up his computer. He would take a break at 7:00 to eat breakfast with the rest of the sides, then go about his day as he usually would.  
The others would never know.  
They never knew.

Logan slowly rose from his mattress into a sitting position and shuffled to the edge of the bed. He braced himself, hands pressed against the navy blue comforter on either side of his hips and bare feet firmly against the cold wood of his floor. He stood slowly, so as not to disturb anyone with the creaking of his floorboards. Logan waited a moment for the wood below him to settle, then began to slowly exit his bedroom.  
A low creak echoed through the halls as he twisted the metal knob and pushed the door open slowly.  
He looked back into the room, ensuring that everything was in place for when he came back upstairs. He didn’t want to risk making more noise than necessary.  
As he peered into the darkness, the wood settled below him. Once he was content with his check-over, Logan turned to make his way downstairs.  
A faint sound, however, stopped him a mere two and a half steps into that journey. Faint, yet still audible.  
Logan’s powers of deduction kicked in faster than you could say “Crofter’s.”

It was definitely a musical sound, produced by what he suspected was a string instrument. Maybe a cello? No, the pitch didn’t match that of a cello. It had to be a violin, viola, or maybe even a guitar if Logan was really pushing it.  
His bets were on a violin, and he had to know if he was right.  
His pride was on the line.  
…God, he was starting to sound like Roman.

He slowly crept away from the stairs and back down the hallway, passing by Patton and Roman’s rooms. That left four suspects, and a large stretch of hallway.  
Two doors pass, still four suspects left.  
Two doors pass, two suspects left.  
Two doors pass, one suspect left. Virgil.

The wooden door, painted messily with a coat of now chipped black paint, was directly across the hallway from the communal office.  
That door was shut, as no one needed to use a meeting room at 2:00 AM. Virgil’s, however, was open.  
The dark wooden door was slightly ajar, illuminating a small sliver of the hall in front of it. Through this small sliver, a siren’s song played and tempted all who listened. To say Logan was tempted would be an understatement.  
He wanted.. no, needed to hear more.

Logan crept towards the door, careful to not alert the man on the other side to his presence. The door being slightly ajar worked to his advantage, allowing Logan to peer into the room without moving the wood and risking the hinges “blowing his cover.”  
He’d never been in Virgil’s room, so he decided to observe the environment.  
In one corner, there was a bed covered with a dark purple and black spread, reminiscent of the hoodie Anxiety wore. The covers were tousled, as if someone had been tossing and turning instead of sleeping peacefully. Logan could relate.  
The nightstand next to it was cluttered with books all in varying stages of being read (based on the bookmarks placed in different spots between their pages), a few chargers, and a pair of glasses not unlike Logan’s. The lamp (that miraculously fit) on top of the nightstand was switched on, bringing a faint glow to the room.  
A bookshelf was a short distance from the nightstand, filled with novels of varying genres. Logan recognized a few titles, such as Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” and Agatha Christie’s “The Murder on the Orient Express.”  
Virgil was a man of good taste, it seemed.  
Hung above the bookshelf was a mirror, a few albums stacked on top of the wooden surface of the bookshelf and reflected in the mirror. “American Beauty / American Psycho” by Fall Out Boy, “Welcome to the Black Parade” by My Chemical Romance, “Death of a Bachelor” by Panic! at the Disco, and (oddly enough) “Racine carée” by Stromae. Logic remembered mentioning the album in passing, but never thought Virgil would care enough to listen to it. He didn’t think any of the sides would care enough to listen to it.  
Logan wouldn’t admit that he felt love in that moment, but he most definitely did.  
A couch, television, and a few game consoles sat on the other side of the room, forming a lounge. A lamp illuminated that side of the room. Paired with the light on the nightstand, there was a relatively even brightness to the room. The coffee table in front of the couch was just as cluttered as Virgil’s nightstand, a fact Logan found slightly amusing. One of the things that lay on top of that coffee table, among the XBOX controllers and DVD cases, was an empty violin case.

The violin was in the hands of none other than Tall, Dark, and Handsome himself, who stood in the center of the room.  
The sight was… captivating to Logan. The expert skill and confidence that Virgil played with. The way all tension in his body seemed to melt away with each note. The calm which covered his expression, washing away any emotions one may otherwise see.  
The beauty of the music and the man playing it.  
Logan slid down into a sitting position, back against the wall and knees to his chest. His arms wrapped around them and cradled him, bringing him warmth in the hallway made cool by the darkness which filled it.  
Yet the beautiful strings from the room next door seemed to bring all the warmth he needed. That warmth was precious, and he never wanted it to end.  
So there he sat, lulled to calm by the music as it seemed to slow and everything else faded away.

The calm was broken as latches snapped shut and Logan jolted awake. Virgil had stopped his music and set the violin back to rest in its case, even as the other man wished for the sweet lullaby to never stop.  
But the music had stopped, and Logan needed to get up.  
He stood slowly, careful to not alert the other side to his presence outside his door. After he had his feet firmly on the ground, he began to cross the hallway and open the opposite door with as much care as he put into rising to his feet. He walked into the office, settling in front of the computer and powering it on.  
His original plan still remained, even if he had lost three hours.  
He wasn’t distracted at all.

This became routine for Logan.  
Every night he struggled to sleep, he waited until 2:00 AM rolled around, then crept down the hallway to listen to the music he so loved. The lullabies which calmed him down when nothing else could.  
Those were the nights when he was able to sleep calm until 7:00 AM.  
Those were the mornings where Patton took note of his good mood.  
The mornings where Remus could make some joke about Logan finally wooing a man, and Logan was able to laugh along as Roman joined in on the playful teasing.  
The afternoons where Janus would compliment his skill and focus during their debate or his knowledge on their discussion topic.  
The evenings where he wouldn’t have to go back to Virgil to sleep right, he’d go back to enjoy the music.  
Those were the good days.  
Logan loved routine.

It had been a good day that day, with Logan getting some of his best sleep yet.  
That night, however, was different.  
Tonight, Virgil was practicing a new piece.  
One Logan, a man quite knowledgeable in classical music, didn’t recognize.  
It was different from the others Anxiety has played.  
It was more emotional, more intimate, more important.  
It seemed to be a piece of Virgil’s own composition, based on the pauses which would be followed by the melody line played slightly differently from the melody before.  
Even through the door, Logan heard the violinist muttering little things under his breath. He had a habit of doing that when focusing, something which Logan found quite endearing (though he’d never admit it aloud). They were simple statements, a “What the hell, that’s supposed to be a G, not an A,” here or a, “Yeah, that fucker’s flat,” there. Even just simply “Shit.”  
Anxiety was putting a lot of effort into this piece, so Logan knew it obviously meant something important to him.  
But what did it mean?  
Logic was really holding true to his name, reasoning and thinking though possible explanations, when one of Virgil’s off-hand mutterings caught him off-guard.  
Incredibly off-guard.  
“This has to be perfect for Lo. It has to be.”  
Two sentences, muttered in still silence.  
Two sentences, said to no one but the violinist himself.  
Two sentences, yet it drove Logan to make one of the most impulsive decisions he had ever made in his over 30 years of existence.  
“What has to be perfect?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to check me out on Tumblr (perplexed-kale) and Instagram (perplexed_kale) for more. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This has to be perfect for Lo. It has to be.”  
> Two sentences, muttered in still silence.  
> Two sentences, said to no one but the violinist himself.  
> Two sentences, yet it drove Logan to make one of the most impulsive decisions he had ever made in his over 30 years of existence.  
> “What has to be perfect?”

Virgil startled, the bow of his violin slipping from his fingers for a moment. Logan watched as his reflexes quickly took control, the wood slapping against the man’s palm. Even with Virgil embodying Thomas’s fight-or-flight reflex, Logan was still impressed by the ones the side himself possessed. As he continued to observe the other man, Logan stilled. He had honestly regret ever opening his mouth the moment his words passed his lips, but he would endure. Logan needed to see this encounter to its end. The violin and bow made quiet thuds as the anxious side set them into the case resting near him, his hesitant footsteps soft against the dark carpet.

With Logan stood outside the bedroom door and Virgil next to his coffee table, the two men were momentarily caught in a pensive stalemate. Who would move first, and how?

Breaking his train of thought, Logan opted to observe the man on the other side of the door. Even in the low light, he could make out every feature of the other side’s face. Virgil knit his eyebrows together, one thumb pushed up against the corner of his mouth as the other tapped out even beats on his thigh. The way Virgil looked while deep in thought would always intrigue Logan, capturing his full attention in a way he couldn’t describe.  
The atmosphere was silent for a few beats before Virgil took a deep breath and dropped his hand to fall into his pocket. His flat baritone cut through the silence, croaking for a moment.  
“If- um, if anyone’s in the hallway, feel free to come in.”  
Logan pondered for a moment, clearing his throat. At the noise, he could almost see Virgil’s ears perk up, eyes flashing with something unrecognizable. After a moment more of uncertainty, the logical side made his move. He reached forward and pushed open the bedroom door, slowing his already sluggish pace as the hinges creaked. It would be rude to wake up the peacefully-resting sides doors down, so he put a lot more care than he typically would in opening the door. It took a few, almost agonizingly slow, seconds for him to open it enough to slip inside. As he shifted carefully through the small space, he looked up. Virgil’s eyes met his, gaze soft as he recognized Logan’s face. His dark eyes shined with something Logan could only describe as love as he gestured for Logan to come in farther than the threshold. That might be Logan longing for it, though, so the logical side wasn’t sure he could trust that data. Virgil smiled slightly, never breaking eye contact. A few beats later, his smile fell a bit, brows furrowing again. As Logan met his eyes, the anxious side’s confusion was evident.  
“Logan? What are you doing up?”  
There was a trace of amusement amongst the confusion, a slight chuckle to Virgil’s question. His eyes shined slightly, a happy note amongst the look of surprise.  
Realizing he had to answer the other side, Logan hastily tore his gaze from Virgil’s ever-alluring eyes. Damnit, Virgil and your stupid, pretty face. He cleared his throat again, moving to adjust his tie before realizing he wasn’t wearing it. In his confusion, he’d almost forgotten he was in his sleepwear. The logical side backpedaled, wiping his now-sweaty palms on his plain black shirt.  
The amusement only became more evident in Virgil’s eyes as he recognized both actions as nervous ticks of Logan’s. What? He wouldn’t be Anxiety if he couldn’t tell when other’s were anxious. If he was being honest, though, he wasn’t exactly sure why Logan was nervous. The logical side was typically very calm and collected. Hell, he seemed robotic at some times with how little emotion he showed. That was curious, Virgil had to admit.  
Logan wasn’t even phased by Virgil’s deep thought due to being caught in his own bout of it. He had no clue how to answer the present question, so he decided he might as well redirect.  
“I could ask the same of you, couldn’t I?”  
Perfect.  
Logan noticed the smug look that slipped onto Virgil’s face, an eyebrow being raised as he seemed to push Logic to answer the question.  
Well, shit. Redirecting didn’t work.  
Time for Plan B: excuses.  
He cleared his throat again, attempting to infuse as much confidence as possible into his answer.  
“I found that I couldn’t sleep, so I thought it might be good to do a bit of work and was heading to the conference room. As I passed your door, I heard you say something had to be perfect. That piqued my curiosity, so I decided to ask.”  
He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, even on his deathbed, but that was the most bullshit excuse he had ever made in his life. The only part of that statement that was even remotely true was the fact that he couldn’t sleep.  
Virgil chuckled a bit, “No offense to you, Lo-” He moved to sit on his couch, patting the cushion next to him as an invitation and smirking up at Logan.  
“-but I know that’s a lie.”  
Logan’s eyes went wide, the man unable to steel his expression for a short beat. Why was Virgil so good at reading him?  
The anxious side chuckled again, lounging back on the sofa. Logan had to admit, seeing the typically tense Virgil so relaxed and in such a good mood was a welcome change of pace. His smile was radiant, the amusement in his eyes almost sparkling.  
Yet again, Logan had to tear his gaze away from the man in front of him.  
Time to dig what could be his grave.  
“What do you mean?”  
Virgil raised an eyebrow, gesturing for Logan to go on as he added, “What were you going to do?”  
Well, he already dug out his grave, so he might as well lie in it. Dodge the question, and he might not have to dig it further.  
“I was going to do work in the conference room.”  
The anxious side scratched the side of his jaw, stroking the 5 o'clock shadow he’d been wearing for the past few days. His knuckles came to rest in front of his chin, elbow placed on his knee. He tapped a few beats onto his cheek with his thumb before asking, “What work, Lo?”  
Logan thought for a second, hesitantly answering, “I wanted to work on Thomas’s schedule.”  
“Hmm. Well, Lo, you let me look over this month’s schedule two days ago. You never let me even think about the schedule until you’re practically done, so I assume you mean next month’s schedule?”  
Shit. Logan just wanted to lay in his bullshitted grave, not get interrogated.  
“I do.”  
“Well, you told Janus yesterday that you and he were going to work together on that one.”  
Damnit, Virgil. Stupid pretty face and good memory. Damn you.  
Logan sighed before muttering, “Alright, you got me.”  
“So, what were you doing? I’m intrigued now.”  
Logan was hesitant to disclose the exact details of his observing, so he tried one last excuse.  
“I was going to the bathroom?”  
“Are you asking me or telling me, Lo?”  
The smug look on Virgil’s face was far too attractive for Logan to tolerate. Stupid Virgil and his pretty face, good memory, and alluring smugness.  
Well, maybe it was time to just fess up. Logan’s excuses had failed three times out of three, so it would be a statistical anomaly for a fourth to work.  
“Alright, alright. I… mayormaynothavebeenlisteningtoyouplay.”  
“What? You spoke too fast, hun. Can you repeat that?”  
Logan’s brain short-circuited for a moment before he composed himself, coughing into his fist and shifting his feet.  
“I may or may not have been listening to you play.”  
The logical side looked away, scratching the back of his neck. As he turned back, he was met with a sight of a shocked Virgil. The man seemed to be attempting to process the information, scratching his scalp as he met Logan’s eyes.  
“Listening to me- really? You were listening to me play?”  
He nodded, holding back a small smile at Virgil’s sudden bashful behavior.  
“I-” Virgil chuckled nervously “-I honestly didn’t think I was that good.”  
A beat. Logan opened his mouth to respond, closing it as Virgil raised a hand to quiet him. That look of confusion was back on the other side’s face, this time mixed with a slight frown. He was apprehensive, but why?  
“What I want to know is how you knew I was playing right now.”  
Oh. That’s why.  
Logan shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his features.  
“…no comment?”  
Virgil chuckled, rolling his eyes at the other man.  
Logan raised his hands in a ‘you got me’ gesture, amusement replacing some of the timidness in his smile. He laughed softly, hands still raised as he replied, “Alright, alright. I’ve come down here a few times and listened to you play. It helps me sleep.”  
Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed again, thumb returning to its usual thinking position. He raised the whole hand from his mouth, gesturing in front of him as he asked, “How many times have you come down here to listen?”  
Logan counted on his fingers, racking his brain to try and come up with a number.  
“A few times a week?”  
He paused, cocking his head to the side as he thought back through the last couple of weeks.  
“For… three weeks, I think? In all honesty, I have no clue,” he chuckled, “I don’t pay much attention to my calendar at night.”  
Virgil smirked, smugly responding, “Says the man who was going to do 'schedule work.’”  
The words were framed in air quotes, Virgil moving the hand that was not propping him up to do them.  
Logan smiled, waving his hands as he said, “I panicked, alright?”  
Virgil hummed.  
“Don’t know what that feels like.”  
The two laughed, thankful for the opportunity to break the awkward atmosphere. Their laughs died down after a few moments, leaving them sat in still silence. Neither was willing to break the peaceful, soundless atmosphere for a few beats. Virgil drummed on the side of his thigh, thumb at the corner of his mouth as he seemed to consider something. Logan watched him, curious as to what would happen next. They had found themselves in a stalemate yet again, and the same questions were asked. Who would move first, and how?  
This is time, it was Virgil, who hesitantly broke the silence with a simple question.  
“So- um, do you wanna hear what I was practicing?”  
The logical side smiled, chest tightening in a nice sort of a way as he replied, “I’d love to. May I come to sit with you?”  
Virgil smirked, a lovingly teasing tone accompanying his statement of, “I thought I already invited you to, nerd.”  
Logan mimicked the tone, his own smile widening as he shot back, “I don’t believe you did, emo.”  
“Hmm, have you been spending more time around Roman? You almost had me thinking you were Princey for a second.”  
Logan chuckled, shaking his head no as he crossed the room. He moved to where the anxious side now stood, sitting down on the couch at Virgil’s gesture.  
“This is a new piece for me, so don’t bash my shit playing. I haven’t had much time to practice it.”  
“I’m sure it’ll be beautiful-”  
Virgil quieted him with a finger, red tinting the tips of his ears as he picked up his instrument, plucking a few hesitant strings. Logan could hear him count a few bars under his breath as he plucked. The nervous man was effectively keeping time without the anxiety-inducing ticks of a metronome. It was interesting, Logan had to admit, to see how Anxiety adapted to ease his, well, anxieties.  
As Logan watched, Virgil seemed to get more comfortable, picking up and readying his bow. After a few more beats, he finally moved his fingers to the strings.  
He played one note, pulled the bow across the strings one time, but Logan was sure that it was singing. The ones that followed rang through the air, bright and poised.  
With each note, Virgil began to slip into a confident rhythm. As he listened, Logan’s gaze was soon drawn to the instrument playing such a rich melody. He watched as Virgil expertly pulled the bow across the strings of the violin. It was a rich, dark wood, its matching bow made of the same spruce. The violinist’s fingers moved gracefully, the many notes effortlessly coming out of the instrument. The music was slow, calm, and low. The sort of song you’d expect a couple to slow-dance to.  
Logan would love to slow-dance with Virgil.  
Virgil’s fingers were nimble and steady, his long fingers shifting positions with no strain. The pads of the digits were callused from playing, rough skin Logan thought was only evident in the hands of a guitarist. Still, his hands seemed soft, pale in the low light. The skin was marked with a few scars, scattered across his knuckles and palms. Mere nicks and scrapes from times past, but each held a small story.  
The music continued, and Logan’s view slowly shifted from the hands and instrument they held to Virgil’s face.  
The sides may be a part of Thomas, but they all had their own differences, in both appearance and personality. Virgil’s jawline was sharp, his cheekbones angular. It was all angles with him, giving him the look of a Grecian sculpture carved from a smooth marble. As you moved up his face, the side’s features continued to amaze Logan. Virgil’s eyes looked slightly sunken, his eyebags near permanent. If Virgil wasn’t a side, Logan would put it down to a genetic thing. For Virgil, it was probably just a quirk of being Anxiety. In a way, Logan could tell Virgil had recently hit a bout of insomnia. The dark shadows framing his eyes were more prominent, and Virgil had yet to shave off the slight stubble he had grown over the past few days. His hair was slightly greasy but still styled in his typical bangs, albeit a more messily. The purple had yet to completely fade out of Virgil’s hair, so a purple tint was underlying his brown hair in the soft light.  
Logan was still entranced by the man as the music crescendoed, speeding up. Virgil seemed to be channeling energy into every note, and Logic was invested in every one.  
Both sides were caught in a trance as the music decrescendoed, slowing as Virgil plucked out the last few notes. He lowered the instrument, setting it back in its case and sitting next to Logan on the couch. He turned and locked eyes with the other man, holding the gaze for a few blissful seconds before breaking it.  
“How’d you like it?” Virgil asked softly, fear and hope swirling in his eyes.  
Logan still sat in silence, completely in awe by the music.  
He couldn’t put into words how much he loved it.  
Virgil looked over his face carefully, slowly understanding why Logan seemed unable to respond. He filled the silence that followed his question, rubbing the back of his neck as he talked.  
“I, uh, actually wrote that one-”  
He paused, meeting Logan’s eyes once more.  
“-for, uh, for you.”  
Logan smiled, giddy happiness taking over. He laughed a bit, covering his mouth with the palm of his hand.  
Virgil would never admit, but he was beginning to spiral into a panic when Logan finally spoke up. He took a deep breath, reaching forward to cradle Virgil’s cheek as he spoke.  
“Virgil, I loved it. Absolutely loved it. It was as beautiful as the night sky and its stars, the many galaxies and planets that dot our universe… and you.”  
Virgil felt his heartbeat speed up at the last part, looking at Logan with a bewildered expression. The logical side felt the man’s pulse faintly, softly smiling as he met his eyes. Virgil opened his mouth to speak, stopping as Logan raised a finger to halt him.  
“Let me finish, please.”  
Virgil nodded, shutting his mouth and making eye contact. Logan had his full attention now, and he intended to keep it. Logic took a deep breath, continuing on in his confession.  
“Every since I started listening to your music, I’ve been hooked. The emotion and skill you put into everything you play amazes me, and, dare I say, I’ve fallen farther and farther in love with you with every note.”  
Logan paused, slowly realizing what he had just said. His face quickly heated up, the tips of his ears going a bright red in a matter of seconds. He released Virgil from his soft grip on his cheek, dropping his hands to his lap.  
Virgil also seemed to realize what Logan had said, eyes going wide in shock. He met Logan’s gaze, asking, “You’ve… fallen in love with me?”  
With that, Logan panicked, standing up and hurriedly turning around. He quickly muttered, “I should not have said that. I will be going now, good night-”  
“No, Logan, wait.”  
The anxious side also stood, striding forward to grab Logan’s wrist. He turned, meeting Virgil’s eyes.  
They were wide with shock, but it seemed to be a positive type. Logan couldn’t explain it. With his grasp still on Logan’s wrist, Virgil began to speak.  
“Logan, I’m- I’ll be honest with you, I’m not very good with words. Like, I’ve never known the right adjectives, verbs- whatever I’m supposed to use. That’s why I picked up music. It helped me describe what I was feeling in a way people could understand. A way I could understand.”  
Virgil took a deep breath before continuing on.  
“But I can describe what I am feeling now.”  
A beat.  
“Logan, I fucking love you, and it took me so long to be able to admit that.”  
Virgil surged forward, pausing as he cupped Logan’s cheeks. His eyes were scared as he seemed to ask permission of the other man.  
Logan smiled and closed the gap himself. The two’s lips met.  
The kiss was gentle, sweet.  
After a second, the two split, goofy grins plastered on both of their faces. Virgil pressed his forehead against Logan’s, breathily whispering, “God, I’ve been waiting so long to do that.”  
Logan laughed a little before whispering back, “Honestly, same.”

The late hours of night became the early hours of morning, and sleep finally opened its arms to embrace the two sides, and they opened their arms to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to check me out on Tumblr (perplexed-kale) and Instagram (perplexed_kale) for more. Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to check me out on Tumblr (perplexed-kale) and Instagram (perplexed_kale) for more. Thank you!


End file.
